From the Files of the Quinjet
by HetaOmorashi
Summary: Omorashi warning: Please look that up if you don't know what it is!


"Come on, one more." Wanda held out another bottle to Pietro. "You'll sweat it all out anyway."

Pietro sighed. He'd already drank two bottles, but Wanda wouldn't stop worrying. There had been one instance, a week or so earlier, where a mission had been particularly demanding, and he'd nearly passed out from dehydration. Now, Wanda made sure he drank a lot before they did anything. He took the third bottle and downed it quickly, feeling bloated. "Thanks."

"No problem." They boarded the jet, meeting up with the rest of the team. Wanda took a seat in one of the corners, and Pietro sat next to her. The ride was only supposed to take twenty minutes. Pietro was fairly certain he'd have to go to the bathroom by the time they landed, but he tried not to think about that. He relaxed back in the seat a bit as the jet took off. He wasn't the biggest fan of being stuck inside a metal box that was flying through the sky, but he'd gotten used to it.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Pietro was really hoping they'd land soon. He could already feel his bladder filling. His metabolism was fast enough that anything he drank seemed to flow right into his bladder, which wasn't that big to begin with. He glanced up at the front of the jet, where most of the team was. They were mumbling among themselves. "Are we close?" Pietro asked.

"Kind of." Steve replied, glancing out the window.

"I'm going to suggest seatbelts." Tony added, and everyone nodded in agreement, moving to empty seats. Well, everyone except Thor, anyway, but he seemed like he could hold his own.

"Why?" Wanda asked, glancing around.

"Just some turbulence…" Tony was lying, and Pietro and Wanda could both tell.

Pietro fastened his seatbelt, then made sure Wanda fastened hers. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. There were noises below them of gunshots. The jet started making sharp turns, speeding and slowing irregularly.

Wanda was clearly frightened, and Pietro wasn't too fond of what was going on, but it was hard to think of anything other than his full bladder being jostled every time the jet shook or swerved through the air. Pietro kept his feet braced on the floor and his hand on the side of the seat, trying to stay still so the seatbelt wouldn't press into his bladder.

Things calmed down after about ten minutes. Clint announced that they were being followed, and they weren't able to land. Pietro tensed up a bit, wondering how long they'd be in the air.

"I hope you all took potty breaks, because we're not stopping for a few hours." Tony was obviously joking, but the words stuck with Pietro. Even when he was drinking normally, an hour was usually his limit. He glanced over at Wanda, silently begging that she had some sort of solution. Maybe she'd held onto an empty bottle or something.

"You have to go, don't you?" She questioned, though it was clear she knew the answer already.

"Yeah." Pietro pressed his thighs together. What were his choices now? Endanger everyone because he had to pee? Of course not. He had to hold it.

"Sorry."

"I'll wait." He was squirming in his seat a bit.

"Can you?"

"Well…"

"Exactly. I'll tell them to stop."

"Don't."

Wanda didn't listen, though, undoing her seatbelt and getting up. She walked over to Clint, who was currently piloting, and bent down to talk softly with him.

Pietro unbuckled his own seatbelt, bouncing his leg at an unreasonably fast speed. It wasn't really surprising when people started to notice, since both of them knew of his bladder issues by now.

Wanda came back and sat down. "He says we can't stop."

"For how long."

"Who knows. Hours."

Pietro got up from his seat, starting to pace back and forth to try and ignore the pressure on his bladder. His steps were quick and stiff.

"Feeling alright?" Steve asked from his seat.

"Not exactly."

"We'll land as soon as we can." Clint replied.

"How soon will that be?" Pietro tried not to sound hopeful.

Clint looked over several monitors. "Two hours. Maybe more."

"I really can't..." Pietro said quietly. "Not for that long."

"Who knows. It might be sooner." Steve replied. Pietro didn't believe him. He kept pacing.

Wanda came over to him. "Hey…come sit down. Maybe it'll help." She said, and Pietro let her lead him over to his seat again. He sat, twisting and untwisting his legs as quickly as he could, which was almost too fast to see. Wanda kept a hand on his back, rubbing gently to try and soothe him, but he was completely tense.

Pietro's bladder throbbed, his muscles trembling and threatening to release, but he wouldn't let them. Every movement seemed to slosh the urine around inside him, and he could almost feel it getting fuller and heavier by the second. His face was red, and he was sweating from the effort.

Suddenly, Wanda leaned down and said something quietly enough that only he'd be able to hear. "Just go."

Pietro's body wanted to listen, and relaxed enough to let a jet of urine into his pants. "No…don't do that." He responded, grabbing himself. He didn't slow his movements, which were getting increasingly frantic as more urine tried to push its way out.

"We can't land, and you're in pain."

"I'm not going to wet myself." Pietro hadn't meant to speak up, but now everyone was looking back.

"Hey. It's fine." Steve spoke up. "Don't hurt yourself, really."

Pietro shook his head. "I can…I can wait…" Another spurt escaped him, stopped only by the tensing of his muscles and a whimper-like noise.

"Please, I don't like seeing you like this." Wanda said. "Just relax…You'll feel better after…"

Pietro wasn't really sure if he made the conscious decision to let go, or if he couldn't wait anymore. He started going, not bothering to move his hand as he soaked himself. "Aah…" Pietro didn't even realize that he'd vocalized his relief, his body relaxing. His stream went on a long time, and when it finally stopped, there was a puddle underneath him. Embarrassed, he leaned his head on Wanda's shoulder, hiding his face. "Sorry.." He mumbled.

"Don't be. I was the one who made you drink so much." She kissed his forehead, running a hand through his hair. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah…thanks." He said softly. "Thanks a lot."


End file.
